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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587324">With a Final Breath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf'>Goldstone_Wolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Corpses, Crying, Death, Food mentions, Gen, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Temporary Character Death, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Men Crying, Minecraft, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Third Person Limited, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Screaming, Skeletons, Some Mild Eating, Spiders, Tags have been edited for the final two chapters, The other characters past BBH in the character tags, Whump, Zombies, arrow wounds, creepers, descriptions of death, do NOT show up until the last chapter, explosion mentions, for reasons explaining why there, hurt possibility for comfort if y'all scream at me in the comments for it, i mean you can take it as a ship if you want i really don't care, if i am asked by the people in the fic to remove it then i will, personas only, respawn is enabled, there might be a second chapter, tws for:, written in like an hour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:00:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dream gets back to their house, he knows something is wrong.<br/>There’s blood everywhere.</p>
<p>[Note: This is still marked as complete because I'm both super lazy and also a missing chapter doesn't actually matter.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream &amp; Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream &amp; Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Darryl Noveschosch &amp; Sapnap, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>445</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TWs in the tags. Non-“Permadeath AU”. Obviously, this is personas only. I was working with character dynamics and was too lazy to create all new characters and dynamics to do a warm-up with. Since I have to wait a couple days for my next book’s proof copy to arrive, and then I’ll be working on more editing in another couple manuscripts, this is just my break.<br/>Anyways, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          There was blood everywhere.</p><p>          As Dream walked through the remnants of their base, he felt a lump forming in his stomach and throat. Painting the walls in a gruesome display, bloodied handprints smeared the oak wood planks. The door had been blown in by a creeper, from the state of the entryway. Bones, gunpowder, and bits of rotten flesh littered the floor. More blood and gore spattered the walls and floor in several areas, and Dream’s heart sank and his eyes wandered behind the mask as he entered the living room. Or really, what remained of it. Zombie claw marks scarred their tables, and he saw more evidence of another creeper blasting a hole in the floor. Dream turned to the kitchen, then froze.</p><p>          Lying slumped against one of the furnaces, head tipped back and blood spattered on the front of his shirt and on his arms, was Bad.</p><p>          Cursing, Dream sheathed his sword and sprinted over. He reached for his friend, gathered him close to his chest and checked for a heartbeat. Under his fingers, Bad was so <em>cold</em>, and his head fell limply back. Dream took a better look at him after placing a torch down. Immediately, regret filled his chest. Blood had pooled in Bad’s mouth, dripped from the corner of his lips and from his nose and ears. His eyes were halfway open still, but glazed over. They stared past Dream to some unknown, far away place.</p><p>          “<em>No. </em>No, no, please.” Dream ran a hand along the back of Bad’s head, his neck and spine. The bones gave way under the touch where they had shattered and snapped. The wounds to Bad’s chest, stomach, and arms were deep, but they weren’t what killed him. Part of Dream hoped, somewhere, that it had been a quick death rather than something drawn out and painful. Cradling his friend closer for a moment, Dream closed his eyes and then squeezed Bad a little tighter. <em>I’m sorry, I should have been here. </em>He laid Bad down on the wood planks, closed the man’s eyes, and then got to his feet. A moment of silence passed where he simply stood there, in a silent vigil.</p><p>          Then, Dream turned to venture deeper into their now-ravaged house.</p><p>          He found Sapnap in the armoury. From the looks of it, he’d been taken by surprise. A host of arrows had found their way into his shoulders, his neck and back. When Dream checked for a pulse, knowing the clammy skin beneath the pads of his fingers was the first sign that his friend was long gone, he noticed that the sickening expression twisting Sapnap’s features was one of shock and pain. Several of the arrows had pierced all the way through the man’s body.</p><p>          Quietly, Dream ran his fingers through Sapnap’s hair. They should have respawned by then. He wasn’t sure why they—</p><p>          Somewhere in the house, he heard a monster growling.</p><p>          Getting to his feet, Dream left Sapnap where he lay and then strode towards their bedroom. A lone zombie, wounded but still standing, was banging on the claw-slashed door. “Hey, brain breath.” He growled. Turning, the zombie snarled, and Dream stepped forwards. “Go rot in the Nether.”</p><p>          A single slash, and the zombie was reduced to nothing more than a few shreds of rotten flesh and orbs of experience.</p><p>          Ignoring them both, Dream forced the door to the bedroom open. There was a shape lying on one of the beds, a trail of blood (and a <em>lot </em>of it) leading over. The shape was facedown, one arm dangling off the bed while blood dripped from their limp fingers. Dropping his sword, Dream ran to the person’s side and pressed a hand to George’s neck. It was dark in the room, moonlight streaming in the window as the only light, but he would recognise those goggles anywhere. Even as cracked and bloodied as they were.</p><p>          A hoarse whimper left George’s throat, and Dream slowly, delicately pulled the young man into his arms. “George? George, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He whispered, but George’s eyes didn’t open. Hesitantly, Dream put down a torch on the wall. He didn’t want to tear his eyes off of George for a single second.</p><p>          The damage…well, it was bad.</p><p>          Blood matted the brunet’s hair, soaked his shirt and pants. Claw marks lashed up the soft, vulnerable skin on the inside of his arms and beneath his collarbones, gashed through his throat and neck. It was a miracle—or maybe a curse—that he hadn’t bled out already. Bruises marred where his throat wasn’t torn, darted along his jawline and marked where he’d taken blows at his wrists. An arrow was lodged in his ripped-open stomach, the shaft snapped where someone had broken it.</p><p>          Chest fluttering, George let out a panted groan and cracked his eyes open. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough. “D-Dream—” Weak fingers wrapped around Dream’s wrist. A wheeze left George’s throat, an exhale of a name, “Dream—”</p><p>          “It’s okay, I’m here. Everything’ll be fine.” Dream hushed, stroking his hair. A soft smile crossed George’s face. Every breath was hard-won but shallow, the man’s strength already little more than fading embers. Blood pooled in George’s mouth, and he swallowed before forcing out a few more words.</p><p>          “I—I know. You’re—” A rattling noise passed through George’s chest and the brunet coughed. Sucking in frantic breaths while Dream clutched him closer with a panicked expression, he said, “You’re here.”</p><p>          “I’m sorry. I should have—I should have been here.” Dream whispered, and George smiled again. Slowly for Dream, but only over the course of a few moments, the light in his eyes dulled and flickered out. Another hoarse rattle escaped his throat, and his head tilted just enough for his nose to press into the crook of Dream’s elbow.</p><p>          Shoulders shaking, Dream stared down at his friend in shock. <em>No. No, not him, too. This can’t—</em>he glanced around, checked his inventory. He had to have <em>something. </em>He could have—he should have—<em>I should have gone home earlier. They’d still be alive if I’d just—ugh, idiot!</em> Something was building in his chest, welling up to his throat and wrapping tight claws around his heart. Swallowing did nothing to help. Breathing only made it worse. Dream clutched George’s unmoving form closer.</p><p>          And then he <em>screamed</em>.</p><p>          It was a long, keening sound. Thorns edged the noise, scratched at his throat while sobs wracked his shoulders and his vision blurred. Bad, Sapnap, George. All of them were gone. All of them were <em>dead</em>. He hadn’t been there to protect them.</p><p>          Shoulders shaking, he gasped in a few breaths, still holding George. Bones rattled outside and he turned to see a skeleton looming in a gap in the wall formed by a creeper blast. Holding his gaze with empty sockets, the skeleton nocked an arrow. There were more monsters outside.</p><p>          <em>Why haven’t they respawned? Why is this happening? How are there so many monsters? </em>The arrow lodged in his shoulder, and Dream snapped into action. Letting go of George, he ran for his sword where it lay by the door. Another arrow struck home in his side, and he turned to raise the sword with both hands. He could feel something in his lungs, the result of the arrows, but he shook it off. Another shout built up in his chest, and he charged at the monsters.</p><p>
  <strong>Dream was shot by a skeleton</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. With a Final Breath—Alt Pov (Bad)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The deaths through the POV of Bad, Sapnap, and George. Part One.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Asked for by TheSeaWriter. Thank you!<br/>Yes, it took a total of one person asking me to do the deaths through the others’ POVs. Since I don’t want to make an entirely new fic and the like, I’m just going to add the chapters on. If you’ve seen the edits to the summary, then you’ve probably realised that there’s going to be more than one other chapter besides the previous one. Also, the amount of response (just through views and kudos, not just comments) is kind of crazy. All my other fandoms are either small or mostly dead or I just haven’t written in them in a while, so…yeah. (I love them all equally, or else I wouldn’t have written for them.) Thanks for that.<br/>Anyways, TWs are in tags. Feel free to comment, kudos, etc.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          It was meant to be a normal night.</p>
<p>          Dream was out exploring, mapping out more territory and resources. He was looking for another place for them to move. As much as they all loved their current home, the mobs had been acting oddly. It was weird, unnerving. As a result, they’d decided it was time to move base.</p>
<p>          So, after packing up some of their less-than-necessary supplies, Bad and George and Sapnap had settled down for the night. Dream had been told to start heading back when the sun was halfway down the sky. He’d left the base a few days before to travel, check out the territory beyond what they currently knew. He was meant to be back.</p>
<p>          They’d made the mistake of dropping their guard.</p>
<p>          As Bad walked through the house, he swore he saw something at one of the windows. When he looked, though, there was nothing. <em>Just your imagination, Bad. Nothing more than that. </em>He crouched down to go through their chests for food. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder at another odd noise, frowning. “Sapnap? That you?”</p>
<p>          Slowly, he stood up and then walked over to the hallway. He poked his head out and glanced from one side to the other. Someone said something outside, and Bad wondered if maybe Sapnap had gone outside and managed to lock himself out.</p>
<p>          “Oh, not again. Come on, Sapnap.” He reached for the doorknob when the sound actually hit his ears. It wasn’t words.</p>
<p>          <em>It was hissing. </em></p>
<p>          Sucking in a breath, he shouted, <em>“Sapnap! George!” </em>Both of his friends ran in, and he reached for his sword. Everything was happening so fast. Turning, he warned, “Get down!”</p>
<p>          There was an explosion, and Bad went flying. The door slammed into him as he hit the wall, and there was a muffled <em>thud-pop </em>in his ribs and his shoulder. Slowly, he stumbled to his feet and looked up, pushing the door off him. Bad’s sword was lying a few feet away. “Bad!” Sapnap’s voice barely reached through the ringing in his ears.</p>
<p>          “Grab armour, both of you!” He warned, glancing at the both of them. They were bloodied. Wide-eyed, they stared at him almost in horror. “Go! I’ll handle this!”</p>
<p>          Blood dripped from a cut above his hairline, and Bad wiped it away with the back of his hand. Shifting his grip on the sword, he charged at the first zombie. They’d had time to get back out. Growling, the zombie lunged, and he felt sharp claws rip right through his scarf at his neck. Before it could get too deep, he impaled it through the chest and it dissolved into rotten flesh, orbs of xp, and dust.</p>
<p>          So he fought until George got back. He fought even as a skeleton got by, even as claws lashed across his chest and shoulders and arms. A creeper exploded and he hit the wall headfirst, feeling his cheekbone crack painfully. Lurching to his feet as fire blazed across his face, Bad looked to George and realised just how bloodied they both were.</p>
<p>          Bones rattled, and they both whipped around in time to see the skeleton in the hallway. An arrow whistled through the air. Then there was the wet <em>thud-smack </em>of an arrow hitting flesh. Stumbling back, George cried out and grabbed the shaft of the arrow where it emerged from his stomach. “George, go!” Darting over, Bad helped him into the living room. They were covered in monster remnants, there was a small break in the monsters, they just had to wait it out. Bad snapped the arrow shaft so it was closer to his stomach and wouldn’t jostle so much, Tearing his scarf off, Bad wrapped his friend’s stomach with it and grabbed his shoulders. Wide eyes held his—one of the shades’ lenses were cracked and Bad could see his eye. Holding his gaze, Bad ordered, “Go to the bedroom. If you have to hide and wait until Dream comes back. <em>Do not come out until then, understand?” </em>Shakily, George nodded, and Bad hugged him tight. “I’ll hold them off.” Shakily, George nodded, and Bad hugged him tight. “I’ll hold them off.”</p>
<p>          “Bad—you’re hurt.” Glancing down, Bad noticed the deep slashes across his whole body. He shrugged and got up, helping George to his feet.</p>
<p>          “I’ll see you soon, I promise. Now go.” Shaking, George stumbled towards the bedroom as another monster mob made its way inside. Bad turned and tightened his grip on the sword in his hand and charged. In the front, a creeper hissed and exploded, sending Bad flying through the air.</p>
<p>          The last thing he felt was his body hitting the furnace, pain blazing through his whole body, and then nothing.</p>
<p>
  <strong>BadBoyHalo was killed by [Unintentional Game Design]</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Up next is probably Sapnap. See you later, y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing and I hope you have a great day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. With a Final Breath—Sapnap’s POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The deaths through the POV of Bad, Sapnap, and George. Part Two.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TWs in tags. I am so sorry that this took so long to make, I’ve been trying to do a ton of stuff and then the election and everything was super tiring because family members decided that my rights are apparently a debate topic and I can’t even defend myself without nearly having like a third panic attack since this was last updated. [Update from the 19th: I had a really bad Sunday for those of you who might know about it, but...yeah. Four panic attacks since this was updated at least, not fun. I also added it to a series so you can read my other Dream Team fics a lot easier!). <br/>Anyways, this chapter is probably going to be a little shorter. That’s not for any outside reasons, it’s mostly because Sapnap sort of just…kind of died a little faster than the others? Really brutal way to say it but whatever, this whole thing is kind of brutal when you think about it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Dream was supposed to be back.</p>
<p>          Everything was supposed to be okay. But this was not okay. <em>None of this was okay. </em>“Grab armour, both of you!” Bad shouted, hauling himself to his feet and looking back at Sapnap and George. There was blood dripping from a cut above his hairline. He didn’t seem to notice. In the doorway, monsters approached.  “Go! I’ll handle this!”</p>
<p>          Panting, Sapnap turned, grabbed George’s wrist, and dragged him into the hallway. They had to get armour. Had to get weapons. <em>We need to fight. </em>Nearly tripping on the blood-slicked ground—<em>they were hurt, of course they were hurt they couldn’t catch a break that night, apparently</em>—he dragged George into the armoury and started rooting through the chests. Swearing so much Bad would probably have passed out, he winced as he jammed some of his fingers on the bottom of the chest. His fingers finally found the hilt of a sword as George struggled into an iron chestplate. It was cracked, weak. <em>How did we get so lax? We should have better protection than this!</em></p>
<p>          “Sap—” George said, horror in his eyes. “There’s only one sword.” Sapnap handed it over, dragged some iron from a chest.</p>
<p>          “Go help Bad, okay? I’ll join you in a moment.” Shakily, George nodded, and then darted out. An arrow shot by and there was a shout, then rattling as a skeleton fell. Turning back to the closest crafting bench, Sapnap started working. <em>Where’s Dream? Is he alright? What happened to him?</em></p>
<p>          He was so busy thinking he didn’t even see it coming.</p>
<p>          Something smashed into his back. Rolling to the side, Sapnap turned with the half-crafted sword in his hand and slashed right through a skeleton’s midsection. It collapsed, then wrapped a hand around his ankle and yanked. <em>What the—</em></p>
<p>          In the living room, George cried out in pain.</p>
<p>          “George, go!” Bad’s voice shouted. Struggling with the skeleton that was currently trying to wrap itself around him, Sapnap caught a glimpse of George stumbling by. One of the skeletons turned towards the young man, and Sapnap threw the sword to smack it in the head. The skull spun around. If it weren’t for the fact they were in a terrifying situation, it might actually have been kind of funny. Instead, Sapnap snarled at it.</p>
<p>          “Come and get me, you Jurassic fossil.” The skeleton grabbed the sword and threw it, and Sapnap dodged it. The blade slid away and dropped into one of the chests. At the same time, an explosion rocked the house, and Sapnap stumbled to the side. He just managed to get his feet back underneath him. Something snapped into his spine and he jolted forwards, a hand flying to the front of his stomach as his legs started to give beneath him. Several more, ugly <em>thwaps </em>of arrows piercing flesh echoed in his ears as he dropped forwards, clinging to the chests. <em>No, no. No, no, come on, come on, have to get up. I won’t make it if I can’t—</em></p>
<p>          Another arrow shot through his neck, and he clasped a hand to the wound with a sharp gag.</p>
<p>          Crumpling to the side, he felt cool stone press against his cheek. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. His fingers twitched when he willed them to move—he couldn’t do anything—he couldn’t—</p>
<p>
  <strong>Sapnap was shot by a skeleton</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Up next is George, and then there’s the fluff chapter! I have no idea when they’re going to be coming out, as I am very close to finishing up editing a book, and then I have three other books to edit (I need to overhaul the editing for my two currently published books), and then *finally* I have an actual book and then a private project to do before next November or so. <br/>I just realised I have nonbinary pronouns with my name on the back cover of Magic Paintbrush’s proof copy and if my parents see that hoo boy that will not be fun ha *haaaa*. <br/>Anyways, I was writing something for another work of mine that’s going to be a whole lot of chapters (no it’s not D&amp;D related but it is Dream Team related) and Sapnap gives me vibes of “I do what I want and you can’t stop me”.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. With a Final Breath—Alt Pov (George)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The deaths through the POV of Bad, Sapnap, and George. Part Three.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes you’re getting two chapters pretty quickly again (The final one comes out tomorrow). Why? Because I say so that’s why. I managed to do all my Theatre work for the break and now I get to have fun! Sort of, I still have a jack ton of History to do but I’m going to try and do that as fast as I can tomorrow. <br/>Skipping right to the part where George is in the bedroom because I don’t want to have to relive the first three chapters like that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George knew he was dying.</p>
<p>          That was the weird thing, really. Not the wet, heated feeling of his own blood on his skin, painting his chest and his throat and his limbs with a weird kind of numbness he couldn’t describe. Not the pressure of the arrow shafts piercing his body. Not even the wheeze that followed every single inhale and exhale. None of that was weird, he’d experienced it before the few times he’d died.</p>
<p>          This time, though…he wasn’t scared.</p>
<p>          He wasn’t scared at all. Sure, he was dying, but he knew Bad and Sapnap were, too. He knew they had to already be dead. After all, the monster growls had receded, but no one had come to find him. No one had walked into the room. He’d managed to take down the mob that <em>did </em>make it through. He’d slashed through all of them with the armoury’s only remaining sword. Their fatal flaw had been the thought they’d be safe for one night. They were never safe. Never had been, never would be. They could be peaceful, but they could not be harmless.</p>
<p>          Sucking in a breath, he coughed weakly and then winced. A low whimper fought its way through the air. His stomach hurt. His heart hurt. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, fully prepared to let himself sink into the darkness and then respawn.</p>
<p>          Except…Sapnap and Bad would have respawned by now, wouldn’t they?</p>
<p>          Sucking in a breath, he fought to open his eyes. His goggles hung around his neck, lenses cracked. The frames were bloody. <em>Come on, George. Come on!</em> His ribs ground together as he fought for another breath, wincing as his heart ached even more. Sapnap and Bad should have respawned by then. Unless if something was wrong with the respawn mechanics—<em>could </em>they even respawn? What if they were all thrown into another world with no help? What if they were all thrown into different worlds and had no way to contact one another? What if they got really hurt and they couldn’t defend themselves? Or find food? What if they didn’t—</p>
<p>          <em>Calm down, George. Overthinking won’t help the situation. </em>He ordered himself, trying to struggle upright. It hurt. It hurt <em>it hurt <span class="u">it hurt so badly.</span></em></p>
<p>          A zombie started banging on the door, growling loudly. He didn’t know how long it did, he kept losing time. Kept drifting in and out of consciousness with the only way he knew being the floating, weightless feeling he got as he woke up and the way the darkness faded out all of his vision. The banging got louder and louder, and then dropped out all of a sudden. George closed his eyes, guessed that the zombie had managed to bash the door down. He was ready to die. It was going to happen eventually.<em> I’m sorry, Dream. And Bad. And Sapnap. </em>Hiccupping and wincing, he took a shaky breath and nearly cried. One of his arms was dangling off the bed, he wasn’t sure when that happened but he could just feel blood dripping from his fingers.</p>
<p>          The door creaked open—so it hadn’t been broken down. A sword clattered to the ground, and there were footsteps. The moment calloused fingers pressed to his neck, he knew it was Dream—Bad’s hands were incredibly soft and Sapnap’s were ash-smoothed. Unfortunately, Dream touching him wasn’t as happy of a moment as he would have liked. Another stab of pain wracked his body and he let out a whimper—<em>oh Ender is that </em>my <em>voice?</em></p>
<p>          Gentle hands pulled him close, smoothed his hair back from his face. “George? George, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Dream whispered. He sounded so <em>pained</em>, George wanted to look at him. Except his body had started refusing to obey any of his commands, the darned thing. Light flared up behind his closed eyelids, and he heard Dream suck in a breath as he took in the injuries. They were bad, he knew that. He could hardly feel any of them anymore, even the arrow shaft in his stomach.</p>
<p>          <em>Come on, come on. You need to </em>move. Breathing got a little harder and George managed to crack his stupid eyes open. Not much, barely anything at all. With strength he probably couldn’t afford to lose (and he was well aware of that), he opened his mouth. Reached for Dream’s wrist. “D-Dream—” Shuddering, he wheezed out, needed to <em>say something</em>, ask about Bad and Sapnap. “Dream—”</p>
<p>          “It’s okay, I’m here. Everything’ll be fine.” Dream stroked his hair, and George smiled as best he could. There was copper in his mouth, dripping from his lips. He could feel the heat and the stickiness.</p>
<p>          Forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, he choked out, “I—I know. You’re—” His breath rattled, and he started coughing. There wasn’t much time. Wasn’t enough time. He wasn’t going to be able to say everything. He couldn’t breathe—no, he had to breathe, he had to keep talking. He had to—he had to—Dream clutched him closer, pain and panic written on his face. George wasn’t going to make it. He knew that Sapnap and Bad were gone, too. <em>I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dream, I can’t—I’m not strong enough. </em>It was okay, Dream would be fine. He was stronger than any of them were. Panting, chest shaking with every breath, George met his gaze and choked out, “You’re here.”</p>
<p>          “I’m sorry. I should have—I should have been here.” Dream whispered. George smiled at him, held his gaze even as the darkness started to overtake his vision. <em>He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.</em> George didn’t try fighting anymore.</p>
<p>          The last thing he heard was Dream <em>screaming, </em>not in physical pain but something else. For a brief moment, he nearly clawed his way back to consciousness, but it was already too late. He wasn’t strong enough. He didn’t have anything to hold on, even as the sounds of Dream <em>crying </em>so <em>brokenly</em> reached his ears.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Georgenotfound died of [Unintentional Game Design]</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Apparently most people don’t have panic attacks after they pass out so I guess I’m weird. Anyways, decided not to have George suffer from that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. With a Final Breath—Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of the story.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yay, now we get to the happy ending! Finally! This story took way too long for me to make.<br/>Also, just to clarify with the [Unintentional Game Design] notes, it referred to stuff not actually listed in the death messages. In Bad’s case, it was a broken neck from being slammed into the furnace. In George’s case, he bled out. Kind of sloppy but that’s just what I decided to go with. <br/>Anyways, if any of you want more content, you’ve probably noticed that this has been placed in a series. None of the fics are connected unless you want them to be, they’re just random scenes I decided to write out for no reason other than it’s fun. Uh…feel free to make requests and offer prompts as well, I won’t do all of them but I don’t mind writing them out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>World Deleted</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Teleported BadBoyHalo to World 7</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Teleported Sapnap to World 7</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Teleported Georgenotfound to World 7</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Teleported Dream to World 7</strong>
</p>
<p>          Dream jolted awake in their emergency base, World 7.</p>
<p>          Grabbing the sheets of his bed, he looked around, checked his body over for injuries. He still remembered the feeling of arrows driving through his chest, through his shoulders and neck, through—shaking his head, he swung his legs out of the bed and shakily rose to his feet. He didn’t have any shoes—never respawned with shoes on, it was kind of annoying. The wood planks were cool under his feet, the familiar oak tones warm in the torchlight streaming from the scones on the walls. Taking a deep breath, he pressed two fingers to his neck and closed his eyes, counting heartbeats. His was calming down, and he glanced down at the communicator on his desk before strapping it in its proper place on his wrist.</p>
<p>          He hated hardcore worlds.</p>
<p>          They never played hardcore worlds. He wasn’t sure why they picked to this time. Shuddering, he walked over to the closet, pulled off the white undershirt that he was currently wearing. It was soaked in his own sweat, of course he wasn’t going to wear the thing when he had new clothes in his closet. He grabbed a green hoodie, a new white undershirt, tugged both of them on. Changed sweatpants, pulled on some socks (he was too lazy to put on shoes, laces would be too much of a hassle for the moment, but he could at least make sure his feet weren’t freezing).</p>
<p>          Pressing a hand on the wall to keep his balance, he slowly made his way through the hallway. The others’ doors were thrown open, beds empty. They were probably in the main room. Limping towards that room, Dream kept his eyes on the ground. He was tired. Like, <em>dead </em>tired, almost. Of course, it made sense. Dying in a hardcore world was…different, somehow. No one really knew how to explain it, but that was how it worked. Normal worlds allowed you to come back when you died, they didn’t have the same consequences or weight. When you died in a hardcore world, there…it was different. He didn’t know how to describe it.</p>
<p>          Yawning and wondering if the others were going to come by (the others meaning Wilbur and Tommy and Techno and Tubbo, amongst everyone else who usually hung out on the SMP; World 7 was where they didn’t have to pretend anything), he slunk into the main room and looked around. Sure enough, Bad and George and Sapnap were lying on the couch. In the kitchen, Wilbur and Phil were talking. “Oh. Hi.” He mused tiredly, and both men looked over.</p>
<p>          A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and Dream jolted. Turning, he found Techno standing behind him. “Alright, let’s get you to bed. Or the couch.” The man mused, and Dream let himself be steered towards the couch.</p>
<p>          “I wasn’t going to do anything stupid—”</p>
<p>          “Shut up we know you too well for you to lie.” Groaning, Dream allowed Techno to shove him onto the couch between George and Bad. Sapnap raised his head on Bad’s other side, eyes blurred. Reaching over, he grabbed Dream’s arm. Well, not so much grabbed as just…slapped his hand onto Dream’s shoulder. Bad wrapped his arms around Dream’s waist, and George cuddled in. Wilbur ventured over, carrying some bowls of soup. He gently shook Bad and George awake, started talking to them. For the first time, Dream realised that Tommy and Tubbo were, in fact, in the room. Both of them were thrown across the same chair, a tangle of teenager.</p>
<p>          “Oh, look, you all actually do care for us.” Dream chuckled, feeling arms wrap around his neck. Looking up, he found Fundy standing against the couch. “Hi.”</p>
<p>          “Hi, idiot. Could have told us you were going to a hardcore world. Would’ve given us a bit more ability to prepare.” Dream laughed softly, and Fundy hugged him again. George coughed weakly, and everyone glanced at him nervously. Wilbur, meanwhile, sat down by him and gently began feeding him the soup. Fundy handed Dream a bowl, and Bad and Sapnap slowly got up to eat as well. Tommy and Tubbo started having a conversation in their sleep, in Spanish and French respectively. Glancing over at them, Dream paused, blinked a few times, and then tilted his head looking at the others. “We don’t know where they picked it up, either.”</p>
<p>          “Probably Quackity with Tommy?” Techno asked, shrugging. “He seems like the kind of guy who’d learn a language to shout it at his enemies mid-battle. Tommy, I mean.” Everyone laughed softly, and Dream blew on the spoon before sticking it in his mouth. Phil ventured over with a small plate of crackers and stuff.</p>
<p>          “We’re not sick, Phil. We can handle actual food.” Sapnap mused softly, and Phil shook his head good-naturedly.</p>
<p>          “I don’t want you throwing up all over the floor, Sapnap. I’m sure you can handle ‘<em>actual food</em>’—insulting my cooking, how shameful—” Sapnap started yelping and making little sounds, and Phil gently touched his shoulder as he set the cracker plate down on the coffee table. “Don’t worry about it, Sapnap. Besides, do you <em>really </em>want to try throwing up <em>milk </em>when recovering from being killed.”</p>
<p>          Sapnap paused. “Good point.” Bad chuckled, and Sapnap lightly nudged him before shovelling food into his mouth. If he burned his mouth, Dream didn’t know. He didn’t seem to have burnt his mouth, though, didn’t seem to care very much if he did. Smiling, Dream shook his head and went back to eating on his own, taking a few breaths. Phil was actually a really good (not that that was incredibly shocking).</p>
<p>          Settling back in the couch, Dream rolled his head back against the kitchens and closed his eyes. His chest kind of hurt. “Hey.” Wilbur’s voice reached his ears. Opening his eyes, Dream tilted his head to meet his gaze. “You alright?”</p>
<p>          “My chest hurts. I’ll be fine. There wasn’t any blood.” George and Bad pressed into him a little bit, which did actually help. Staring back at the ceiling, Dream took another breath and then closed his eyes. He was so tired, and Fundy’s fingers were carding through his hair in the perfect way. Taking a breath, he smiled softly at his friend.</p>
<p>          Darkness swallowed him again, although it didn’t have half the violence the last one did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I guess you can read these relationships as romantic if you want but I’m leaving them as platonic. <br/>The appearances of the others were not planned but I didn’t want to force Bad, Sapnap, George, or Dream to have to make food while utterly exhausted and drained from dying in a hardcore world. So…yeah. Added everyone else in (can you tell that I’ve also started to get more invested in the SMP world? Although there was a very entertaining point where I was like “Either I have a crush on one of these guys or like something else is going on” and then I remembered I’m a 5’3”ish trans guy and it’s actually not out of the ordinary for me, a trans man, to wish that I was 6’5” and cis. So…fun times there, it was entertaining for me at least). No spoilers in the comments, please, I’m still working on watching the L’manberg war. (Although, just my point, the first Wilbur Soot video I ever watched was the “Wilbur soot proceeding to eat three bananas while the girls argue about simps” one)<br/>Anyways, thank you for reading this fic, I'm sorry that it took so long to complete! Y'all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing, I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope to see you in the next one!<br/>(HYDRATE OR DIEDRATE NOODLEHEADS!)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this enough and want more, yell at me in the comments and stuff. Kudos if you want, they’re appreciated but not mandatory. Uh…I also take requests (yes, that includes adding a fluffy ending to this), also located in the comments. However, I may not fulfil all of them and I will not fulfil NSFW-type stuff because a) I am ace, b) I am a minor, and c) s*x just is not appealing to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a math quiz and homework to take.<br/>Y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing and I hope you have a great day. See you in the next fic!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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